Through the Chilly Mist
by Forbidden Moons
Summary: Learn from Darchelle Rahl, the younger sister of Darken Rahl, see her light, see her darkness, see her mistakes... And how she fights through the chilly mist of her true self, toward power or perhaps toward something that begins with an 'L? How can she find the balance between love and ambition? Disclaimer here ONLY: I don't own LOTS - only my OC (s). Thank you! Will update soon!
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Greetings, darling readers! I can't believe I'm writing this right now... Okay, well, this is only my 4th fanfic, and my very first one on _The Legend of the Seeker_. Like I said, I have no idea why I'm doing this right now! Perhaps it is the need of a break from my own world of _Harry Potter_? The need of a break from writing the BESTEST villain of all time, my beloved Tom Riddle/Lord Voldemort? I dunno. Well, anyway this story is written for fun, period. I hope my story would be of satisfactory to you... And I hope I can continue this Darken Rahl X OC, if YOU darlings like it alright!

So, happy reading (I hope)!

/\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Her name was Darchelle, Darchelle Rahl. She was only thirteen, the little sister of Darken Rahl, her brother. Her name means 'dark', same as her brothers. They had the same father, Panis Rahl. She didn't love him, but she didn't suppose she hated him _much _either. But since he _was_ her father after all, and she never knew her mother, she guessed she did care about him a little. Anyway, he was not a loving father. For starters, a good father wouldn't put all glory to his son, his heir; for starters, a caring father wouldn't ignore his daughter most of the times; for starters, a true father wouldn't hold such a low regard to a female Rahl. She was different from other girls. She was not a whiny useless little princess whose only dream was to find her Prince Charming. Oh no, she was far from that, far _above_ that. She was insanely confident and ambitious and possessed a frightening goal list in her mind, but she hid this part of her personality well. On the outside, she was beautiful, with her midnight black hair identical to Darken's, irresistible electric sapphire-blue eyes that were more piercing than his and seemed to shot out sparks, they cut straight through the soul of the person she stared upon. She was sweet, polite, kind, shy, and _obedient_... Because of this O-too-convincing facade, her father often said that she would bring disgrace for the House of Rahl, for she 'did not have the heart for great things'. He didn't know her at all, which was totally pathetic for a father.

Inside, she was dark, and she guessed her mind would be what people would call 'twisted', especially for a child so young. She craved for power, and especially enjoyed torturing and killing people for fun and relaxing purposes. She had her first kill when she was merely seven, in fact. But her father never knew that, being the delusional foolish bastard he was. Alright, she would admit that she _did_ hate him. More than a little. However, despite all this she never considered herself evil. Why? Simple, allow her to tell you the one rule that is greater than all the Wizard's Rules: there is no good or evil, there is only power...and those too weak to seek it. (A/N: Hehe, don't start saying I'm genius for thinking up something like this... Because unfortunately, this is NOT mine! Although it taught (and changed) me a lot, and I definitely grew darker after pondering on it. Voldemort in _Harry Potter_ said it. _He_ is a true genius!)

The only person in the entire world who knew what she truly was inside was her dearest brother, Darken. He covered up for her whenever she killed, and sometimes they would have fun together in the dungeons, testing out new skills on the prisoners. The other people at the Palace always smiled to her and said, 'Oh, you're a sweet little angel of House Rahl, truly!' Disgusting. And then dropping to whispers, 'It is a shame such a nice little girl had to be born into such a _horrid_ family.'

The thing she was good at most was easily magic, and not even her _father_ can fail to notice her extraordinary talent in magic. It was like magic was in her blood, and she would be what they call a 'natural'. Her next best thing was sword fight, but this would have to be made third if you count her torturing skills in. Just imagine all those wonderful things she can do with her magic...

'Darchelle,' A most pleasurable silky voice that came from her brother snapped Darchelle out of her yet _another_ daydream/planning of world domination, 'What is going on inside that tricky little head of yours again?'

Calmly, she looked around, saw that nobody was looking and instantly smirked at her brother, who was leaning against a wall casually. 'But if I tell you what I'm thinking, my mind won't be half as "tricky", as you called it, would it?' Her voice rivaled that of her brothers in its silky quality.

Darken Rahl chuckled as he observed his sister. Darchelle was many things, he often thought, and sarcastic was only the best of her.

'Oh, my little Chilly, you are in a rare playful mood today, why is that?' He used his special nickname for her, and it cannot fit her any better, since she wasn't fond of her real name much.

Darchelle smirked wider, 'Are you complaining? I would not mind if you prefer me to slip back into my cold, emotionless self. _However_, since you asked so _nicely_, I would be pleased to inform you that it is because that _He_ isn't around today, and everyone else is rushing about with some urgent business, leaving us here, pleasantly undisturbed.' She spoke like the perfect lady everyone thought she was, but Darken was not to be fooled by his sister Darchelle. He knew her all too well.

'You're up to something.' He pointed out simply as his younger female version of himself raised an elegant eyebrow at him.

'Oh, am I? Pray tell then, dear brother, what makes you think that?'

It was Darken's turn to smirk. 'Because... I know although you want everybody to think that you are a proper lady, we both know the truth. And if we are alone here, but you speak so formally with _me_, then... It's not natural. Plus the fact that you are always extremely careful just before you are planning to do something big.'

Their eyes met, each pools of sapphire fire matching the other in intensity. No one backed down in this staring competition and finally Darchelle replied only with a non-commitment 'hymph'.

_If my actions can be predicted that easily by him, then I must not be careful enough... Damn, I was going to bait him into it! But then again, this way may be quicker for the both of us._

'Fine, fine, _very well_.' She rolled her eyes and sighed, looking over at her brother who was three years older than her. 'Remember our little..._discussion_ a year ago, in the cemetery?'

Darken looked at her, eyes narrowed, 'Of course, sister, how could I forget?'

Flashback...

*Important, please read!*

_(Darchelle was twelve, and Darken was fifteen.)_

_'I'm so bored!' Darchelle blurted out, slamming her book shut._

_'Well, not much you can do, really, Chilly. We are in a _palace_, with lots of guards guarding every door. There is no way we can sneak out, surly you realise that already!' He explained to his little sister patiently. _

_His sister, however, obviously disagreed. 'Every puzzle has a key, every question has an answer, every problem has a solution... Every castle has a loophole!'_

_Darken sighed and patted her on the head. 'Dear Chilly, although your logic is impressive and undoubtedly correct, this is not how our world truly works. Forget it, you can't just slip past so many guards without them noticing you!'_

_Darchelle smiled mischievously, a look he recognised too well that meant 'I'm-up-to-something' flashing in her electric blue eyes. 'Oh, I know that, dear brother. But who said anything about slipping past the guards?'_

_Darken gave her a penetrating look and asked carefully, 'What exactly do you have in mind?'_

_She smirked. 'What use is magic if we can't even use it to get out of our _own_ palace?'_

_He laughed quietly, shaking his head at Darchelle's wit and slyness. 'That's actually a great idea, if you are sure what you're doing -'_

_As usual, his sister took offense at being doubted on her magical ability, 'Of _course_ I know what I'm doing, Darken Rahl!' She snapped at him, 'Or can you possibly assume that I would suggest this if I'm not 100 percent positive, mmh?' She took a breath to calm herself and smiled at her brother. 'Take my hand, I can transport us to the perfect place for a peaceful nighttime stroll.'_

_Hesitating for a second, Darken took her hand and Darchelle closed her eyes, focusing on the place she wanted to go, and moments later they were somehow squeezed into a world of destinations, and without a soft thud, they landed, on their feet, at..._

_A graveyard. Of all the places she could have picked, Darchelle found a creepy graveyard to be the best of the lot! Just typical._

_Unafraid, the two Rahls walked, hand in hand, passing one grave after another. They can literally sniff the scent of death and darkness in the chilly night air, and seemed to enjoy it._

_'Now that's more like how we should spend our night!' Darchelle laughed happily, a rare sight on her indeed. And for once, it made her almost look at an innocent little girl that she should have been._

_'Exactly! I find myself enjoying your taste...' He whispered into her ear and she giggled affectionately. She can only be truly affectionate toward him, to others, although she pretended to be warm and caring, she was cold and careless. A truly cold she-demon girl._

_They were silent for a while, holding hands, enjoying the evil view of tombs all around them. Quite suddenly, Darchelle stopped walking and turned to Darken, a very serious, even fearful look in her liquid sapphire eyes. _

_'I do not want to die, Darken.' She whispered._

_He glanced at his sister curiously. 'You will not die, Chilly,' He assured her, 'You are still young - a child. You will still have many, many years to live, stop worrying so soon!'_

_'I know that.' Her voice was still small, 'But one day, I will get old. One day, I will die eventually!' She raised her voice to an ear-piercing shrillness, 'I do not want to die, Darken, _EVER_! I do not - _will not _allow myself to be reduced to a pathetic, grey, toothless crone!'_

_Darken, greatly surprised, tried to smile easily at her. 'Calm down, Chilly, you're being irrational. This is the law of nature, and no magic can possibly achieve that!'_

_Darchelle glared at him with a defiant glint in her over-bright eyes. 'Oh, and why is that?'_

_'Because, if it is possible to live forever using magic, don't you think that many witches and wizards more experienced than you had tried - and failed before you?'_

_'Yes, it has been tried, but not by _me_!' She said, as if promising herself, 'I _will _find a way, one day. And when I do, I want you to be immortal as well.' She smiled. 'Together, we will rule the world!'_

_Unable to produce words for the first time in his life, Darken Rahl can only nod to his sister and replied only one world. 'Together.'_

-Flashback End-

'Yes, Darchelle, I remember everything. Why do you ask?' He throw her a suspicious glance.

'Because, dear brother,' She smiled, eyes flashing, 'I believe after a year's time, I've found a way to achieve immortality.'


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Ladies and gentlemen... *smirks as readers rush about expectantly to prepare ice-wines and desserts* So far, ONE review! *cackles madly as readers scream in excitement, pouring ice-wine into glasses and start chewing cookies* Thanks you, Mistress Darken, for my very FIRST review on this story (even if it is a guest review)! I'll just let you know here that even _if_ I get no reviews from now on, I would still continue this story! But of course, I would appreciate it if you DO review this chapter! I'm not a Slytherin for nothing you know - I'm determined! So uh, I hope that _if _anyone else is checking out this story... Give me a lovely review, will you? Things like 'Great! Please continue!' will be highly appreciated as well!

So... Happy reading! And oh, I would have to disclaim, sadly, that the _inspiration_ of the practise of splitting souls belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me! So basically, a 'Piosanam' is my version of a Horcrux! It is kind of a mixture of the two Irish words 'piosa anam' - soul piece.

/\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

A silence settled in the air between them, icy with its stillness, and burning hot with the excitement within.

'You _what_?' Darken whispered, not quite believing his ears.

'I found a way to be immortal, not entirely immortal, of course, but the closest way possible.' Darchelle repeated calmly, a rare genuine smile on her face, a true sign of satisfaction of telling her brother a significant thing she managed to accomplish.

'How?!' He demanded, not caring his tone. He was her brother, after all, and they shared the same burning thirst for power.

'Ooh,' She taunted, having fun seeing his anxiousness, 'someone is so eager in hearing _my_ words, all of a sudden, not just the "O so great heir Darken Rahl", huh? Touching, touching...'

'_Damn it_, Chilly, you find the oddest time to be playful and the _worst_ moment to bring me discomfort! Just spit it out, now!' Darken said impatiently.

'The best results come to the one who waits. Be patient, dear brother.' She smirked the smirk he came to recognise as the I'm-in-the-mood-for-some-torturing-fun smirk, 'We will have this little conversation in the garden, so no one will disturb us.'

Annoyed but left without a choice, Darken followed his precocious sister out into the quiet garden. The scent of roses and lilies greeted their nostrils, but none was in the mood for the scenery. They picked a shady spot under a tree and he glanced expectantly at Darchelle, fearing that if he spoke, the clear eagerness in his voice would bring yet _another_ round of cruel mocking.

'Well,' She began, speaking in a rush, 'I came across a book in our _dear_ father's study the other day: _Rúin An Draíocht Dorcha. _Secrets of the darkest magic. And you know me, of course I found it very curious and interesting, so one day when he was not at the palace, I sneaked into the Forbidden Section in his study and stole out the book. It is not written in English, and I guess _that _is why he never read it. I know the Ancient Language, because _I_ know full well that knowledge is power.' She paused to smirk. 'I have to tell you, its contents were extremely..._juicy_, to say the least. But of course I can't _allow_ anybody else to read it! So I used a spell to get all the knowledge in the book into my mind, and right afterwards I burnt it. Are you _sure_ you want to hear what was in the book, dear brother?'

She burnt it. Typical Darchelle. Never _ever_ able to allow anyone to share her exclusive knowledge, and fixing her life insurance in the meantime; anyone would want that piece of information, so _no one _would dare to let her die. Even though Darken knew she was taunting him, testing his patience, he couldn't suppress a snarl, _'YES_, now will you please just _get on with it_?!'

'Mmh,' His sister answered in a deliberately and painfully slow drawl, 'as we both know, all magic comes with a price, and the darker it is, the more significant the price. And the price for this particular magic is...' She stared directly into his eyes, 'your soul.'

'You have to sacrifice your _soul_?' Darken asked incredulously, 'Are you completely _mental_, Darchelle Rahl?! You don't know the first thing about magic - it has limits! By sacrificing your soul you would be...'

'Relax, Darken.' Darchelle replied coolly, 'I said nothing about actually _sacrificing _my soul. What I mean to say is that you..._separate_ a _piece_ of your soul from the rest, and use a spell to store it into an object of your choice. This object would be called a Piosanam. The more times you do this, the more powerful and near-immortal you can become. This is Dark Magick, truly dark. But it can't stop me from trying to make a Piosanam, can it?'

Darken thought it over, decided to be cautious and asked for more details. 'So... How _exactly _can one make a Piosanam?'

She gave him a slightly crazed smile. 'You have to split your soul, of course.'

'_How_...?'

'I already did, and so have you.' Darchelle paused, 'By committing the highest sin of all: murder.'

Silence. A bird shrieked overhead, but none of them heard. Darken cleared his throat, and his sister's face was emotionless, entirely made of stone. 'That's a bit _disturbing_, isn't it?'

'Whatever do you mean, dear brother?' She raised an eyebrow.

'Well, I would have thought that this is obvious. As you said moments ago, this is the darkest form of magic. But what if something went wrong? What if you ripped your soul into pieces and killed yourself in the process? Have you ever thought of the consequences? Chilly...' He sighed, 'You are still young, _we _are still young. You have to step out of this _obsession _of immortality - it's not good for you, it's too dangerous!'

'So what?' She said softly, 'I told you a year ago that I will be immortal, no matter the cost. If I can't take this risk, then all my hard learning of magic would be useless! I would just be like any other witch, growing into crones.' She laughed bitterly, a terrible, humourless laugh. 'If _you _are too _cowardly_ to seek power, then fine. Don't. I don't care; we all have our priorities. But don't you _dare_ try to stop me.'

Her voice was ice and poison, the threat was sent.

'I won't stop you, Darchelle. You know I only wish the best of you. I want you to be happy.' He was sincere, swallowing the threat.

'Oh, worry not, dear brother! When I succeed, I assure you I _will _be happier than I've even been!' Darchelle said defiantly, a challenging glint in her electric blue eyes, as if daring him to say otherwise.

He gazed at her intensely, 'If you think so, Chilly. But I will have to consider about it - for myself. Tell me your requirements in this...spell and I'll help you get them. I don't like the sound of tearing my soul apart and separating it from my body, personally, I'll find another way. And if I ever need your help...'

'All you need to do is ask, dear brother. I'll give you the information you need.' She finished for him immediately.

Darken, however, managed to read something else in her impenetrable mask. Or, perhaps, it had nothing to do with his reading skills at all, but rather his experiences of his sister over the years. He knew her nature. The first thing he needed to worry about her was her selfishness, if someone threatened her rights in any way, even if that person was _him_, she will fight to protect herself over everyone and everything else. So he guessed that what she meant was that she would give him the information he needed as long as, given that piece of information, she would not have the risk of him to growing more powerful than she will become.

Satisfied with the perfect answer his genius mind produced, but feeling a bit uneasy about her sister's silky tongue, Darken smiled thinly and said, 'Good, good. Now just relax for a while, we can sit down and talk, just like how we use to - '

'_No_.' Darchelle cut him off instantly, starting back to the palace, 'I need to..._study_. At somewhere quiet.'

He sighed and pulled her back, holding her waist tight ('Let me go, what are you doing?'), 'You're overusing yourself, Chilly. Try to put your mind out of it for once, won't you? Anyway, the garden is quiet as well.'

She wrenched herself free and rubbed her waist. 'I am _not_ overusing myself, I know my limits! And I can't relax, life is so short, time is so little! And I mean I need to go somewhere cool, dark _and_ quiet, the sunlight here is just so annoying and distracting.'

Darchelle turned to walk toward the palace once more and this time, a guard rushed out, bowed to both of them and said to her, 'My lady, your father requests your presence. Said it's urgent. He's not in a good mood, so please come with me quickly, you only!'

Darken had a bad feeling about this as his sister, seeming to share this sentiment, followed the guard reluctantly. He called out to the guard, 'Do you have any idea what this is about?'

He turned, still walking quickly, 'Sorry my lord, not sure about the details. Bellowing something about a stolen book or something.'

Darchelle's face grew pale.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Finally, this story has been followed and favourited! Thank you, whoever you are, for encouraging me like this! That made me decide to write this chapter first before updating my other stories! If you are a Harry Potter fan, I would much appreciate it if you go read my Tom Riddle X OC story _and _my fan fiction about Voldemort's daughter. (Lights and Shadows & Serafina Riddle and the Sorcerer's Stone) Again thanks for reading! And enjoy this chapter!

/\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

No, no, _no_. That was the only thought that lingered in Darchelle's mind as she walked those anxious footsteps toward her father's study. She was perfectly calm though, just like her usual self. But she still cannot shut down the tiny spark of uneasiness and worry in her heart of stone. Annoyed, she finally managed to dismiss them. She absolutely _hated _human emotions, the way she looked at herself she thought she was superior, the best above everybody else. Which she was.

Her father must have not been such a fool after all, at least he noticed his prized book's disappearance. An empty, humourless smile crossed Darchelle's delicate crimson lips as she thought of various arguments to defend herself. It made her just a little surprised that her father would suspect her so soon - she had been such a good little girl, all the time. It will not be that difficult, the thirteen-year-old Rahl girl mused, to put on the sweet, innocent facade, and if she needed to, pretend to be _weak_.

Time past agonisingly fast, yet slow at the same time. Darchelle did not fancy to see her father's rage break over her, but her nature made her look forward to challenge and conflict. She rearranged her face one more time, a perfect mixture of confusion, innocence and calmness.

_Yes, there is no possibility that anyone would doubt _me. _After all, I'm their 'angel'. Even if my father insists that I am guilty... Well, he will get _nothing _out of me._

Darchelle was now right outside her father's study; the room that gave her a guide to the unknown path toward immortality.

'This is where I leave you, my lady.' The guard bowed to her one last time before fleeing the quickest he could.

_Coward. _She shook her head in disgust, but was instantly taken aback by a man's furious shrieking inside the room. Uh, oh, her father certainly wasn't pleased. Deciding to play the innocent victim that know nothing about the stolen book, Darchelle knocked politely three times on the door.

It was instantly swung violently open, not my a guard, but by Panis Rahl himself, who was looking as angry as she had ever seen him be. His reasonably handsome features were contorted by controlled rage, as if he was trying very hard not to slap her head off. His gaze was enough to burn a hole in a normal person's head, but Darchelle, being the person she was, stared calmly right into the identical blue eyes.

'You wanted to see me, father?' She asked smoothly, putting a confused look on her young, beautiful face.

'I _HELL _well do!' He bellowed, and she flinched, afraid that her eardrums might be broken.

Darchelle forced her brows to furrow in fake concern as if afraid for her father's sanity. 'Father, are you okay? What is the matter?'

'You see, Lord Rahl? She can't possibly have stolen the book. Look at her!' Another man spoke up, gesturing at her, 'She is all scared and confused, my lord! Surly you can't suggest that your daughter is the thief?' She recognised it as one of her father's wizards, called Gilly or something... No, Giller to be precise. She thought that he was fairly easy on the eyes, with his over-delicate face that fitted more for a female than for a male. Especially with his long hair... But still, he was pretty good-looking, and most importantly: powerful. Power was the thing Darchelle valued most. She shook her head out of these thoughts; now was hardly the time to judge that wizard!

If her father was a dragon, he would be breathing fire now. 'Oh don't be fooled by her, Giller!' He shouted, 'She's not scared at all! And she certainly isn't confused! She's just pretending like she knows nothing about the book being stolen! Isn't that right, Darchelle, you family disgrace?!'

Giller, alarmed, apparently realised that it was impossible to reason with the king anymore, and he wisely retreated to stand beside the wall to leave the argument to the family,

Darchelle tried her hardest to keep her face even. 'Father, I'm sorry if you thought me in such a horrible way, but... Could you _please _tell me what this is all about? I have no idea, you see.'

'LIAR!' Her father grabbed her by the collar and sent her crashing into the wall, knocking over several vases in the process. 'Even when I am seeing straight through you, you still deny the bare truth! Admit it, you stole the book. _YOU STOLE MY PRECIOUS BOOK! _The book that is rumoured to hold the key to true power... The book that will gain me everything. And you stole it! Where did you hide it? Tell me, girl, or - '

'But I thought you have already read _every _book in your study?' Darchelle ignored all his outbursts and asked in a childish voice, 'Why did you not read this one, then?'

Expecting a slap on the face, she was surprised to see her father freeze for a second then suddenly he laughed. She and Giller stared.

'Ha, I nearly forgot... The book was written in the Ancient Language, so obviously you cannot manage to read it! Well then, girl, it is of no use to you, either. Just tell me where you've been hiding it, then _maybe _I can make your punishment a little less..._unpleasant_.'

Shaking her head, she said, 'Father, you have no _proof _that I stole the book.'

'Don't I?' He asked quietly before taking out a gem from one of the drawers. A gem that apparently fell out from a hairpin.

_Hers._

'Is there a reason, Darchelle, that I found this on the book shelf of my stolen book, mmh?' Her father had finally had her cornered. There was no way out this time. She, _Darchelle Rahl_, had made a mistake!

_Fool, fool, fool! _Her thoughts screamed in her head while she resisted the urge to really scream as well.

'You will _not _have the book. Its knowledge isn't yours, never has been and never will be.' She said unnaturally quietly, knowing that by stating this at least they didn't have to go through the 'tell me where it is' game again.

'Oh, and why is that?' He snarled.

'Because you are not _worthy _of it.' She hissed coldly, this time earning a _royal _slap on the face.

In the corner of her eye she saw Giller running out of the room. Now it was just Darchelle and her father.

'You little - ' He was positively shaking with rage, 'you little' (slap) 'insolent' (hard slap) 'arrogant' (slap, slap) 'USELESS' (slap, slap, slap) 'WORTHLESS' (slap, slap, slap, slap) '_SCUM_!'

Before he can start slapping her again, Darchelle pulled herself roughly away from him, her face red from the hits and her own indignation. She had _never_ felt so angry and humiliated her entire life! It was as if the mistreating and disregard of thirteen years finally reached its exploding point, and she felt as if she can cause a thunderstorm by mere breathing, and her eyes felt as if it was blazing, shooting out deadly blue sparks.

If she hadn't concentrated on her father so much, she might have noticed the suddenly darkened sky, the roaring wind, and the destructive lightning cracking the sky. She might have laughed madly and pointed out to her father that she was more powerful than he can ever become.

But the fact was, she noticed none of that.

'How dare you...' Her whisper turned into an eye-piercing shriek, '_HOW __**DARE **__YOU! _How DARE you call me worthless, you have NO IDEA what I'm capable of, you blind _PATHETIC FOOL_!'

Her father started toward her again but a mere barely-noticeable flick of her finger sent him crashing into the wall behind. Apparently shocked that his daughter _dared _to use magic against him, he himself sent a table flying at her, missed, then called for the guards.

Exactly that moment, a dozen guards streamed into the room, together with Giller and...

Darken.

Her brother's eyes wandered over the angry red marks on her cheeks, immediately knew what had happened, but didn't say anything about it. 'Father, sister, we have a _very_ big problem.'

'What is it?' Her father asked abruptly, straightening himself while Darchelle stood there emotionally for him to continue.

'Zeddicus Zul' Zorrander, our biggest enemy, is finally attacking the palace.'

Panis Rahl fell into a chair.

Darchelle smiled wryly.

_Oh, won't I be happy to see you die_...


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Oh my bloody wonderful and terrible gods! I'm falling for someone that's not Tom Riddle: Loki in Thor and The Avengers! He's just so irresistibly devil-like handsome! Such icy green-blue eyes, silky black hair and sexy thin lips... And O-so-adorable! Ah, what I'd do to keep have Loki as my boyfriend! Ah! ... Well, I'll cut the outbursts out now. Enjoy this chapter! Reviews are much appreciated!

IMPORTANT! I'm thinking of writing a sequel of this story, a Thor/Avengers story with Loki and Darchelle as main characters. The plot will not be connected truly, but the OC is still, well, pretty much the same as she is in this story. How about it? I will update both stories, of course. Tell me your opinions!

Btw, for the later uses of this story, Darchelle might have to change her name into something with the meaning of ice, winter or cold. I personally favour two: Isolde (ice + rule), good side: origin from the Nordic (Loki, duh). Bad side: I do not particularly like the sound of it, not intimidating enough. Solstice: sounds grand but not deep enough, if you know what I mean. I like names beginning with 's', so advices please? Thanks!

_'I am Loki of Asgard,_

_and I am burdened with_

_glorious purpose.'_

**\Long Live Lord Loki/Long Live Lord Loki\Long Live Lord Loki/**

Fate might be at her advantage, after all, thought Darchelle. The First Wizard was never her friend, but what can she say? The enemy's enemy was an ally, and Zorrander happened to be her father's most bitter foe. Perhaps, just perhaps, she can use to wizard to get rid of her bothersome father without have her own hand covered in blood.

Before Darchelle's young but twisted eyes, a scene of utter chaos was unfolding. Her father, shouting orders to the guards and the generals, was preparing for a serious war and obviously had no time to care a feather about what Darchelle was doing. Her brother, being the prince he was and the Rahl Heir, only had time to give her a look that clearly warned 'Stay out of trouble' before he too vanished from sight and went with the other soldiers. Even the guards did not do much to insure her safety. Of course not; not her, _never _her! Even though she knew, deep inside, that she can rule much, _much _better than her brother ever could, with her impressing magic and cunning mind, not to mention her famous silver (some said serpent) tongue. That was one of the rare times that Darchelle would feel and unshakeable hatred toward Darken, although none of it was her fault - except that his _existence _was the direct reason for her to be constantly treated as second-best.

Darchelle shook her head and made a split second decision that would forever change her path of life. She hurried back to her room and grabbed all the necessities: cloths, money, weapons, books, and of course, her pet snake, Loki. (A/N: Really, darlings, don't throw knives at me now! I mean, I _did _say that I want to keep Loki as a pet, didn't I?) The reason for giving him such an odd name came from a storybook about Norse Mythology she used to read when she was little. Perhaps it was the similarity of their sad childhood that immediately drew her attention to the widely-hated God of Mischief and Lies. Loki quite reminded her of herself, to some extent. Both brilliant and silver tongues, both professional liars, and on top of all, both second-best to their brothers. Except that Loki was adopted, but really, who knew? Perhaps Darchelle was adopted as well.

She had been able to talk to snakes for as long as she can remember, a snaketongue as people called. (A/N: Ah haha, yeah, Parseltongue, for I'm evil!) And this beautiful snake found her years ago, claiming her to be his mistress. He had the most impressive dark green scales and strikingly enchanting ice blue eyes. The two loved each other, well, as much as an animal and a human girl can. Loki always seemed to understand, and sometimes Darchelle thought that he was _far _too clever to be an animal.

_Young mistress, are we leaving?_ Loki slithered over to her, flicking his tongue out.

_Indeed, my darling. Zorrander is attacking, and I really do not want to stay in this wretched place any longer. I am better than all of them, I will prove it._

Her friend hissed in approval but did not speak further, seeming to be in deep thoughts. He was almost always thinking about something.

Checking the things she brought once more, Darchelle casted a simple charm and made them all dissolve into thin air, to be pulled out whenever she intended. With her powerful dark magic, though, she highly doubted that she would be in serious need of weapons, but to be safe from unexpected situations, she brought several daggers and her sword all the same. Pulling her black (as always) hood up her head, the youngest Rahl departedfrom her room and walked toward the exit of the palace, quickening her pace as she went. The palace was almost unguarded now, as a battle awaited outside. Darchelle knew that she should have just chosen a secret passageway out, but her natural curiosity dragged her to the front yard to observe the oncoming battle with the First Wizard.

She wanted to see her father dead, but Darchelle cannot help but feel slightly worried of her older brother. She might be cold and heartless in general, she _did _care about Darken.Decision made, she stealthily moved to the front gate, not wanting to be spotted. But she definitely did not expect to be instantly slammed to the ground as soon as she set foot outside. Bracing herself for the sharp pain in the head that followed, Darchelle turned over and looked up in alarm. She could taste blood in her own mouth, but she ignored the stinging feeling.

She groaned as she saw that it was her father. Not showing anything other than annoyance and boredom on her face, Darchelle raised an arrogant eyebrow and stood up gracefully, before questioning coolly, 'What can I do for you _now_?'

Panis Rahl seemed to be beyond angry as he gestured frantically to the small but deadly team of Zorrander. Darchelle glanced at Darken silently for some kind of help, but he pretended not to see her, apparently trying to avoid further trouble. That mate her grit her teeth.

Before he can answer, and possibly slap her again, however, a powerful male voice boomed from ahead.

'Leave the child be, Rahl!' It was the First Wizard in all his glory. He was thin, and might have been good-looking if it were not for the situation.

Darchelle smirked, not bothering to hide her real personality anymore. 'Hear, hear, _father_, leave me be. You have mistreated me enough for thirteen years as it is, no need to do it even more now, mmh?'

'You dare - ' Her father started to bellow.

'Yes, I dare.' She hissed menacingly.

'Darchelle - ' Her brother started to side with their father and Darchelle finally exploded.

'No, you don't get to speak here, Darken Rahl!' She screamed, making a lot of people cover their ears in haste, 'I did not complain to you in all these thirteen years of how _displeased _I am by you. You know the reason? Because I wanted to _protect_ from how you will react when you hear the truth! And that is _him_,' She pointed at her father, 'he has been favouring you all these years. 'Darken is brace' 'Darken is the ideal future king' 'Darken is polite' 'Darken is the perfect heir'... And then there is always me. 'Darchelle is weak' 'Darchelle is disgrace to her family name' 'Darchelle is a manipulative liar' 'Darchelle is useless'! And you know what?'

Her voice dropped to no more than a whisper, but it carried across the yard like electric impact. 'I have had enough. Enough of being overshadowed by you. No one realised my true value, no one understands how powerful I truly am! Let me tell you something now, _daddy dearest_,' Darchelle turned to the older man that was shaking from head to toe, '_you _are the one that's worthless. _You _are the one that's unworthy of my attention! I hope you rot in hell. Send my regards to the Keeper.'

With that, she turned sharp on her heels to leave, ignoring the stunned faces of everyone behind.

'No, Chilly, no! You cannot leave just like that! You know how much I care about you!' Darken yelled, running toward her and put a firm hand on her shoulders.

Stone-faced with an icy sneer, Darchelle shook her head. 'No, Darken. If you truly care about me, you will let me sit on the future throne.'

'_What_?'

'There you go then,' She laughed mirthlessly, 'you are nothing but empty words. I do not care a feather about _your _affection, brother. I am _chilly_, 'the heartless girl' after all, better live up to my name.'

Darchelle shook his hand off, and to add effect, mock curtsied to her family, then to the equally shocked wizard. 'And now I will take my leave.'

Before anyone can do anything, she disappeared in a puff of dark black smoke that seemed to be made of snake-like lightning. Just like that.

Gone.

Free!

Free, at last, to build her own world.

Darchelle looked around. She seemed to have teleported herself into a forest far away from the palace. Everything was fresh, new and quiet. The peaceful tranquility finally clearing her mind, Darchelle began to chuckle as she remembered how she confronted her father and brother just barely a minute ago. Did she finally hate her brother? She knew not the answer to that. All that mattered was that her future was now hers alone.

After a while enjoying her new surroundings, Darchelle thought that her main priority now would have to be holding her identity secret. Her father and brother would surely be searching for her, no doubt. So she would have to use a fake name. This was a good thing, for Darchelle had not been fond of her birth name anyways. It sounded absurd and shallow. She searched her mind for a while, but cannot seem to be able to decide on one. She reasoned that she needed a fake name and an official, intimidating title.

'Title, title, title...' She muttered, absent-mindedly stroking Loki's scaly head.

_How about Serpentine? _Suggested her only companion

Darchelle glanced down curiously. _Mmh, that should sound a wonderful title, Loki sweet. But I am also thinking of something royal, how about Princess Serpentine? No, that sounds ridiculous! Queen Serpentine? No, I don't even have my own army yet!_

Intelligent eyes smirked up at her. _Lady. Lady Serpentine._

Her eyes widened in happiness as a true smile graced her face. _Oh yes, this title is perfect! Lady Serpentine... Ah, I love it already!_

She planted a playful kiss on the top of Loki's head, spinning the smug snake around.

_I suggest not to show your face too soon, though. _Loki warned as Darchelle frowned in thought. _If you want to make a reputation, you need to stir up people's fear of you. All fear the unknown, and it would serve our purpose perfectly if you remain a frightening mystery. Try designing a personal sign of yours and mark every one of your victim. Villages after villages. Here and there, no repetitive routes. Within a short while everyone will be trembling in fear at the mention of your name, Lady Serpentine!_

She nodded in approval. This was one of the times that she highly doubted that Loki was an animal at all, with an obviously higher IQ than she and undoubtedly a hundred times more experienced. _Are you sure you are not a genius, darling?_

An eye roll and her rare childishness was ignored.

Beware, O ignorant world, and pray to survive under the mercy of Lady Serpentine!


End file.
